Welcome to the Inquisition
by Gimme Mocha
Summary: Three men. One crazy woman. A lot of cliffs. Inspired by all the mad scrambling and jumping to get to the shards. It's really not at all sane. Spoiler if you haven't gotten to Skyhold yet!


Blackwall looked up, shading his eyes with one heavily gauntleted hand. "Bloody cock of the Maker," he swore, mumbling into his bristling beard. "She's bloody insane. The whole Inquisition is run by a mad woman."

"She'd have to be, to run an inquisition," replied the Qunari lounging in the shade of one of the few trees in the wasteland. There wasn't nearly enough shade to cover his body, large even for one of the race of horned giants, but the tree did its best. "Look on the bright side: she's making good time."

Blackwall didn't respond. He was too busy wincing and clenching his fists, watching the woman overhead make a precarious leap from one crumbling bit of dust-covered rock to another. Her feet slid and she skidded backwards toward the very long, very rocky fall to the desert ground where he waited to pick up her battered body. "Inquisitor!" he bellowed. "Come down from there!"

"What do you plan to do if she doesn't?" Iron Bull asked, reaching up to idly scratch the base of one of his horns. "Spank the Inquisitor? Not that I don't see the appeal. Especially in those leather pants."

"Best not to let Cullen hear you making such observations," said Solas, somewhat absently. He sat nearby, completely oblivious to the desert heat, a series of rock shards spread out around him. Even in the bright sun of the desert, the runes on them glowed with a faint, cool blue light. After a moment's inspection, he rearranged the order and tilted his head.

Bull glanced over. "Why? You think he hasn't thought of it?" He snorted. "What a waste of a good posterior. Maybe I should give him a hint."

That was enough to yank Blackwall's attention away from the sight of Evelyn scrambling for a foothold. "Look, that's the Inquisitor you're talking about. Show some damned respect." His head snapped back around as a fall of rocks pattered to the ground and saw her dangling by her fingers. "Andraste's perky nipples, you crazy bitch! You're going to get yourself killed and then who's going to run this mad quest of yours, I'd like to know!" he yelled.

"Very respectful," Solas said dryly.

"Oh shut up."

"To your left!" Bull called, bass rumble echoing off the rocks. "There's a handhold about a foot to your left!"

"Thank you!"

"Bloody balls, man, don't encourage her."

"What? She's going to do it anyway. I might as well help her do it safely." Bull squinted his one good eye, the other covered by a series of parallel scars and an eyepatch. "Ah, see? She got it. Nimble thing, isn't she?"

Evelyn pulled herself onto a ledge and paused there a moment to catch her breath.

Blackwall took the opportunity to turn his irritation on the Qunari. "You have a mouth like a fucking sewer, Qunari," he growled.

"I'm just an admirer," Bull said, unmoved by the threat or the posturing. "She's all curve and muscle and lithe… wriggling."

Disgusted, Blackwall flapped an armored hand at Bull and turned back to watch Evelyn inspecting the rock face.

One corner of Bull's mouth quirked upward. "Besides," he said with feigned nonchalance, "I wouldn't have a go at the Inquisitor anyway. She's too scrawny. I'd rip her in two. I need a woman with more strength. Toughness. Like that Cassandra, maybe…"

Blackwall whirled with a speed that had surprised more than one opponent facing his burly strength. His sword hissed from its sheath. "You keep your bloody mouth shut about Cassandra!"

Bull just laughed and didn't rise, either to his feet or to the threat. "Touched a nerve, did I? You should just ask her into those stables of yours. All that nice, soft hay to roll around in."

"Stop it," Solas said sharply, turning and rising in one untangle of long, slender legs. "Stop picking at him, Bull. And Blackwall, you should stop letting him."

"What on all of Thedas is going on down there?" The words floated down, the accent cultured and elegant but the tone full of irritation. All three men looked up at Evelyn, Herald of Andraste, Inquisitor, standing high on the ledge with hands on her hips. "Look, if I have to come back down there just to settle the three of you and then climb all the way back up here, I'm going to get annoyed."

"He started it!" Blackwall shouted, then flushed crimson.

"And I'll end it," she said, "if I have to pitch the three of you into a rift to do it. Come to think of it, that might be a better idea. I wouldn't even have to come down. Now where's the blasted shard? I've lost track of it."

"Straight up and to your left, Inquisitor," Solas replied. "At the end of that outcrop of rock above your head."

She looked up. "Ah. Thank you, Solas."

"Woman has no sense of direction at all," Iron Bull sighed, folding his hands over his bare stomach.

Blackwall snorted. "Remember the time she got us lost in that cave on the Storm Coast? I thought we were going to have to start eating the deep mushrooms."

"I know what I'm doing, Bull," Iron Bull said, mimicking the Inquisitor's light, soft voice. "Should've turned her over my knee then, that's what I should've done."

"Bloody waste of time," Blackwall grumbled, very quietly. He watched as Evelyn began her attack on the final ascent with one perilous sidelong leap to find a better place to climb. "What's so crucial about those damned things anyway?"

"They open doors," Solas said, having turned back to his study of the shards they'd collected so far.

"Doors to what? Why bother? Unless there's a Corypheus-beheading sword behind one of them."

"We won't know what's behind them until we open then," Solas pointed out. "The Inquisitor feels it's important. Perhaps you should trust her judgment."

"Elf has a point," Bull said. "This kind of war isn't about one great weapon. It's about a thousand good ones, small advantages you seize when you see them. She has a good eye for those things, I'll give her that. Never misses an opening. This might be another one."

After a moment, Blackwall said, "Or it might be another bloody bag of Elfweed."

Bull chuckled, a deep sound more felt than heard. "It might at that."

"And how are you getting down?" Blackwall yelled. "Give any thought to that?"

"I'll jump, of course," she yelled back, turning to wave triumphantly down at them, a rectangle of rock in one upheld hand. "Got it!"

"Be careful with it on your way down!" Solas said.

"Be careful with _it_?" Blackwall echoed, staring at the elf.

Solas shrugged, a rise and fall of one narrow shoulder. "If she gets broken, we can put her back together again. I'm not so sure about the shard. It would be a shame to waste so much effort and work only to break it at the end."

Blackwall stared at Solas's bland expression, then turned back to Evelyn. "Idiots," he said. "I'm surrounded by idiots and madmen."

Bull laughed. "Welcome to the Inquisition."

"Our leader's about to jump off a cliff."

"And here we are, waiting at the bottom to see what kind of shape she makes when she hits."

Solas glanced over, brow furrowed. "Was that metaphor or prophecy?"

"I'll tell you when she lands."

Evelyn jumped.


End file.
